


First Yule

by addie71



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-04
Updated: 2008-12-04
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addie71/pseuds/addie71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo and Sam are helping prepare for the Yule Ball when Frodo suffers a little tumble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Yule

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mews1945 for the beta. As always, this is a much better story for it.
> 
> Written for the 2008 Yule Love F/Stivites.
> 
> I really don’t know if Hobbiton would have had a Town Hall since there was very little government in the Shire and the Mayor resided in Michael Delving. But it makes sense to me that they would have had a place to gather, other than the Party Field, for community events.

Yule was fast approaching and Hobbiton was bustling with activity as the hobbits went about preparing for the annual Yule Ball. This celebration, held every year on First Yule, was the grandest event of the year for Hobbiton and the surrounding villages. Everyone, from the oldest Gaffer to the youngest of faunts, did their best to make it a success.

A week before the ball every smial and house was filled with the scent of fresh baked pies, cakes, biscuits and breads. Stores of jams, jellies, fruits and nuts were brought up from the cellars. The finest of smoked hams were baked with honey from the latest harvest. Evergreens were cut and decorated with pine cones and bright, festive ribbons. Mistletoe was collected by the tweener lads, who hoped the time and effort they put into finding the delicate green sprigs with their white berries would be well rewarded.

The day before the ball the Town Hall was swept and dusted and hung with the many paned lanterns that had been taken out and cleaned for the event. Tables and chairs were set up, a platform erected for the local musicians and the decorations carefully hung. In the thick of it all was the young Master Under the Hill, carrying tables and chairs, climbing ladders, fetching and carrying and helping with whatever was needed. 

The atmosphere was festive, but the activity was winding down and though he was tired, Frodo was also sorry to see the day end. Rarely was he able to spend so much time observing Sam as he interacted with his friends and family. He always knew that Sam was well liked and respected in the community, but it made his heart nearly burst with pride to see everyone from old gaffers to little faunts coming to Sam for his opinion or to lend an extra hand when one just wouldn’t do. And all the tweener lads seemed to want to work with the cheerful Sam who was always singing and joking as he went about his tasks.

Frodo watched the last group jealously, wishing he were free to be just another one of the lads, but he knew that would never do for the Master. If this were Brandy Hall or possibly even Great Smials, it wouldn’t matter so much. But the hobbits of Hobbiton were very aware of their place and even more so of the Master’s. And playing tweener with his gardener just wasn’t proper.

The late afternoon sun was waning and as there was very little left to do, he sent the other hobbits home to their evening meals. He knew that Sam, as always, would refuse to leave while his Master was still there and they could finish up in less than half an hour. The thought made him smile wistfully. Dear sweet Sam. If only he knew what his Master really thought about him, he would be shocked.

Frodo shook off his thoughts and climbed up the ladder to secure the last piece of mistletoe. The hooks were all left in place from year to year and all he had to do was get the sprig onto the hook and everything would be done for the day. This last hook was in the middle of a large archway and the ladder was too short to reach the wall above it so Frodo had to reach from the side of the arch to hang it. Muttering slightly under his breath because it was a long reach, he stretched out with the sprig of leaves and berries...and lost his balance. With a little yelp of surprise he felt himself fall, squeezing his eyes shut as he anticipated the impact.

Surprisingly, his fall was broken by the warm, soft-firm body of his gardener. Sam's arms closed around him as he took the brunt of Frodo's fall and landed on his back with Frodo spooned on top of him. They lay there like that, both of them breathing heavily from the shock of landing, then as Frodo caught his breath, and relief that he wasn't hurt registered in his mind, he turned in Sam's arms, giggling, until he lay face down atop Sam who was also laughing in relief.

They lay there, panting and laughing, until Frodo became aware that something hard was pressing against his thigh. The realization that he was just as aroused as Sam made him pause and stare at the other hobbit, who by this time was also aware of their mutual state. Lifting the mistletoe, which was still clutched in his hand, Frodo held it above their heads with a question in his eyes. Sam answered by slowly lifting his head until his lips met Frodo's and closed on them in a soft, gentle kiss.

~~~

The early morning light changed the room from black to gray and revealed a trail of clothing strewn from the door to the bed. Frodo sighed and spooned closer into the curve of his lover’s body, breathing in the contentment that only lying in strong, warm arms could bring. It was so new and wonderful, like nothing he had ever known nor dared to even dream about before. He closed his eyes in bliss as warm lips began to nuzzle his neck. Turning, he opened his eyes to look into Sam's face and was filled with the joy glowing in Sam's eyes.

"Happy Yule, my love."


End file.
